The Lay of Haleth and Her Haladin
by GwennielOfNargothrond
Summary: A lay of how one woman takes up the task of guiding her father's people to a new and better homeland in the West. Pseudo Epic poetry in three cantos.
1. Canto 1 - Battle

_I wanted to try my hand at Epic poetry and ended up as three cantos of iambic tetrametre, telling the story of how Haleth settled in Brethil. I tried not taking this too seriously, so there are some light touches of humour to come, though I am going to admit, that I wouldn't recommend this for anyone who doesn't like reading long poetry. ;) Otherwise, I hope you enjoy._

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**Canto 1 - Battle**

When Men came into lands of Elves,  
to Beleriand where Noldor dwells  
and Sindar under Thingol's throne  
and Morgoth under ironstone  
in Angband breeds his Orcish thralls,  
one man named Haldad, brave and wise,  
his people led to the realm that lies  
between the arms of Gelion  
and Ered Luin, Thargelion,  
and here this tale of kings befalls.

Now both the daughter and the son  
more precious were than anyone  
to Haldad, who had taught them both  
in master arms and fiends loath  
and during war protect their kin.  
Thus after they some time had dwelt  
by Gelion, yet had not knelt  
to any king, they both rushed forth  
when Orcs marched South and each there fought  
to well defend and justly win.

A mighty man of that good clan,  
wise Haldad had a battle plan:  
that they would build a strong blockade  
behind which they all might be saved  
when fields and homesteads burned down.  
So word was sent to each homestead,  
but Haladin houses were wide out spread,  
that although calls to arms were made,  
some heard them late and were not saved  
when Orcs their battle drums would sound.

The Orcs were many, men were not,  
and bad seemed House of Haldad's lot;  
a low stockade had there been made  
to help the children of men to evade  
the poison arrows of their foes,  
but when defending that shallow wall,  
a fatal blow made Haldad fall  
with broken helm and shattered shield,  
for not 'til death would his will yield,  
and after that his son arose:

"I cannot stay inside no more,  
if father's body lies in gore  
and Orcs are feasting on his meat,  
dishonouring his memory sweet,"  
said Haldar, Haldad's son and heir.  
"You, my sister, guard in my stead,  
for to his final earthly bed  
I will our father bury yet,  
so take my place and let me let  
out all my wrath and go out there."

Thus spoke brave Haldar who left the wall  
only to by his lord's corpse fall,  
for Orcs had still an awesome strength,  
that maugre of his long-sword's length  
did Haldar lose his final stand.  
"My bravest brother lies now dead  
and he wished me to guard in his stead,"  
said Haleth last of Haldad's might.  
"With meagering hope must I now fight  
and save my people and our land."

And seven days they held the siege,  
for seven days foul Morgoth's liege  
with his foul soldiers cannot break  
the wall and them to Angband take  
or kill right there upon the spot;  
and seven days of suffering,  
despair and death and hungering,  
with fearless brave defenders slain  
and tossed back on the blood-red plain;  
for seven days this was their lot.

At seventh sunset after dark  
and Orcish fire spread its spark  
and sixty torches were lit up  
to lead the creatures foul, corrupt,  
as they their war-drums drummed and marched  
to hand their final killing blow  
to Haleth's people, who with low  
supplies of food and fighters few  
well knew that hope was foolish too,  
when thousand Orcs against them charged.

"If this will be our final night,  
then let the fiends know our might  
and hew them before they hew us,  
and prove your strength and will, because  
lord Haldad's death was not in vain!"  
This Haleth tells her fighting troop  
and takes her sword and Orcs do stoop  
as theirs are swiftly blocked by hers;  
she leads her men against the curs  
that gather 'round them on the plain.

Yet Orcs outnumber mortals still  
and darkness urges them and their will  
while Haleth's people is subdued  
by strangling shadows that protrude  
and hides their fiends all too well.  
There death would Haleth's end have been  
had sudden luck all unforeseen  
not come to them in form of hooves  
of horses on the ground and those  
who rode them into that Gelion dell.

The shadows broke and stars came forth,  
as from his home far up in North  
the haughty, noble lord thence came  
with flying hair and eyes aflame  
that put a terror in his foes.  
The men could see the Orcs-troop's fear,  
as battle-tides and turned frontier  
made Morgoth's soldiers wounded die,  
and all was done ere morning sky  
for light will win where Eldar goes.


	2. Canto 2 - Caranthir

_A/N: If you're still reading this, I thank you!  
Personally I had fun writing this canto, so I hope you will also enjoy reading it and the light touch humour I have added. The poetic metre is stil mostly the same as in previous canto, although some stanzas are not strictly iambic._

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**Canto 2 – _Caranthir_**

Lord Morifinwë Carnistir,  
in Sindarin Lord Caranthir,  
stepped from his horse to gaze upon  
the battlefield that had been won  
where Gelion met Athrad ford.  
The men that stood there had been saved,  
not knowing why they'd won such aid,  
why Elven kings would help a folk  
with no allies, with unwashed cloak,  
with no real home, with fallen lord.

"Who are you and why are you here?"  
asked Caranthir leaning on his spear.  
"I haven't seen this folk before,  
but they are brave though mortal born,  
so where's the captain of your troop?"  
His looks were proud though not unkind;  
his lineage, body and his mind  
were that of an Elf of Valinor,  
and fair he was in his splendour  
compared to Haldad's lowly group.

Around were older and hardier men  
and wiser women still older than them,  
yet Haleth they chose amongst themselves  
to be shown as their leader before the Elves,  
so Haldad's daughter stepped forth:  
"My name is Haleth – I'm the one  
you seek, my lord, for Haldad's son  
and Haldad, my father himself, lie dead,  
and Haldad's daughter leads in their stead,  
and she will thank the lord from North."

The ladies of Eldar are brave and wise  
and doubtlessly able to war plots devise,  
yet battle commaders they seldom are  
and few of them will fight in war  
though all of them are as strong as men.  
The same the custom of mortal kin –  
this Caranthir knew – but Haladin  
had chosen Haleth their leading chief  
and their trust enforced his grown belief  
of her being braver than most among Men.

The dark son of Fëanor was known for his pride  
and yet he to Haleth then kindly replied:  
"Your folk is hardy, but heavily tolled;  
to many a people provisions I've sold,  
yet to you and your people I'd give them for free."  
His voice was sincere and his eyes showed no lie,  
but Haleth could simply not understand why  
a lord like Lord Caranthir, princely and tall,  
would offer them something for no price at all:  
"I fear you are jesting – I cannot agree."

The Elf-lord frowned and shook his head,  
for truly he was but offering bread  
and Haleth's losses attempt to amend  
and to her people his riches extend  
since they had proved their honour good.  
"My lady, would you care to meet  
me later today for soup and mead?  
I fear a misconception here,  
for surely you'd do well to hear  
someone who's offering fire and food."

And in the end at evening time  
they met at Caranthir's house to dine,  
as the Elven prince's table was filled  
with food that Haleth's hunger stilled  
although she was not used to feasts.  
Lord Caranthir at last rose up  
and towards his guest did lift his cup,  
for it was time that they talked through  
his offer of help and protection, too,  
from all of Morgoth's ugly beasts.

There Haleth all her manners showed:  
she to her host's admiration bowed,  
and listened closely when he talked  
and with her in his gardens walked,  
as if she was some Elven maid.  
Lord Caranthir with his fire and food  
indeed he merely wanted good:  
upon seeing the Men he'd been impressed,  
so on his errand he now pressed,  
and he to his honoured guest then said:

"Beleriand is strange and wild,  
too dangerous for mortal child  
to dwell alone without a friend  
if friends you have who'd gladly lend  
a wealthless group a helping hand.  
Not often do I gladly say,  
that I would to a people stray  
my service offer, so my queen,  
believe that I my words do mean  
when I propose you take my land.

"I value Haldad's legacy  
– that without proper armoury  
or food could you your folk defend  
and not to lack of courage bend  
though lord and prince aside lay dead.  
Yea, I have seen your lack of home  
and if you leave you'd have to roam  
the wilderness another year  
or more; yet fruitful lands are here,  
so please bethink my gift instead."

He gave his guest some time to think  
while pouring himself another drink,  
and Haleth thought of what he'd said  
ere finally a choice she made.  
"Forgive me, but we will not stay.  
Before my father was laid to rest,  
he told his people to travel west,  
for yonder is the Edain league  
and that is where I will us lead  
and this is why we must away.

"It's not a question of distrust,  
but of a daughter's quest I must  
for Haldad's honoured sake fulfil;  
it's not a question of my will  
when from your offer I decline."  
She turned her eyes to face her host  
and thought she briefly saw the ghost  
of rueful smile pass on his lips  
as he his arms placed on his hips  
and took yet one more sip of wine.

"I trust you know your people's will  
much better than I, but, lady, still  
I wonder whether it is wise:  
beyond Dor Caranthir there lies  
a wilderness of treachery:  
why there live kings in their own woods  
and dwarves and Orcs and Sauron's wolves  
– I wish you would not venture there  
to join your kindred only to share  
King Thingol's subjects' beggary."

"You saw yourself, my noble lord,  
how we defended Athrad ford  
with bravery for seven days,"  
said Haleth, keeping bold her gaze  
and did not flinch from Caranthir.  
"You saw my father's people's might,  
that we are not afraid to fight,  
so though you've shown your worthy heart,  
eventually we must depart,  
for fate us leads and kin is dear."

And when she spoke her host could see:  
"Maybe you're not so different from me."  
For his kind had also travelled afar  
and distances crossed, though fire and war  
had tried to keep them from their goal.  
Yet Caranthir's father had just as well  
through threats of death and final hell  
pursued his passion across the sea.  
Said Haleth: "You relate to me?"  
Said Caranthir: "To your brave soul.

"Before we part let me you bless  
as it would ease my mind's distress;  
if you refuse to stay with me,  
go bravely then, go always free,  
may starlight show a safer path!  
My father ere he was destroyed  
said this: '_through sorrow to find joy  
__or freedom at the very least,_'  
– these words I give you in this feast  
before you leave this Gelion strath."

They walked back to the settlement  
and back to Haleth's own small tent,  
much humbler than Caranthir's rooms,  
with lack of butlers, maids and grooms,  
which made an unimpressive sight.  
Again Lord Caranthir her asked  
if Haleth her modesty merely masked  
as pride, for surely she'd prefer  
to sleep in feathers, wrapped in fur,  
than in the woods at darkest night.

But Haleth laughed, "My mind is set  
– I doubt I will my choice regret."  
And so they courtly bade goodnight  
beneath the gentle starlight bright  
as river winds passed through the air.  
Then Haleth to her people told:  
"The Elven lord knows we are bold,  
so we shall prove him that we are  
as brave as Children of the Stars;  
well keep our goal, not linger here."

Perhaps to keep his self-respect,  
if Caranthir did feel regret  
for having failed to persuade  
the stubborn, free-willed mortal maid  
to stay, he did not let it show  
but calmly rode upon his horse  
as Haleth led her modest force.  
As westward over Athrad ford  
they'd passed beyond, then told the lord  
his men to let their trumpets blow.

"Farewell, my lady, fare thee well;  
and Haldad's people, may you dwell  
in west Beleriand in peace  
and may you wander as you please,  
perhaps you'll find your comrades there."  
Before he led his folk away  
his hand arose in one last wave,  
he smiling turned for one last view:  
"Tell Thingol, if he troubles you,  
you have been blessed by Carnistir!"


	3. Canto 3 - Brethil

This is the last canto and thus I conclude this poem. I know poetry usually isn't a thing people look for in fanfiction, but whether this is well or badly received, I at least enjoyed writin this. Don't feel obliged, but if you have any feedback, comments, questions, don't hesitate to tell me. :)  
Thanks for reading!

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**Canto 3 – _Brethil_**

Then Haleth led her people forth  
and took the ancient dwarf road north  
until they came to Estolad,  
where safer fields and fertile mud  
a good encampment to them seemed.  
But Haleth wished to journey on,  
so after winter-snows were gone  
she told her folk the Haladin  
were miles apart from their own kin  
– they should march on to Sirion's stream.

In Estolad some wished to stay,  
as only woes by dwarf roads lay  
and nothing good; opposers said  
the northern road without good aid  
was nowhere mortal men should tread.  
But Haleth still spoke for her case,  
"for yonder surely is a place  
awaiting for the Haladin,  
and there at last we'll settle in  
and live without despair or dread".

At last she managed to convince,  
that only one who ventures wins;  
they gathered their belongings few,  
beginning their bold journey new  
and with high hopes they Celon crossed.  
The sceptics' fears proved later true  
and worries 'mong the people grew  
for fearsome was the road to ride,  
and though none of them turned aside,  
too many kinsmen dear were lost.

Yet Haleth kept them moving on,  
for she was fearless, her feet strong,  
and though the will of Haladin  
at times grew weak, they gave not in  
when winds grew cold and skies grew dim.  
At last they crossed the Brithiach  
and now there was no turning back;  
they could but hope that they'd yet find  
some place for them where mortal kind  
would be welcome to settle in.

A time for them to split had come,  
as some moved south while north stayed some,  
and thus some went to Nargothrond  
while Haleth rather stayed beyond  
the Teiglin with those who north preferred.  
Enough of Eldar had she seen  
and she could well be her own queen:  
"Lord Felagund by Narog dwells  
and Thingol has his guarding spells:  
I'd rather leave them undisturbed."

Yet when the ones who had moved south  
to Narog's plains of fruitful growth  
Lord Felagund their tale had told,  
the lord's kind heart grew sad but bold  
and he sent word to Thingol's throne.  
As Thingol's nephew, Finrod urged  
the king to let his kingdom's verge  
become the home for Haladin,  
a people that so long had been  
confined to bitter wildlands roam.

King Thingol was not cruel of heart,  
yet kept his folk from guests apart,  
but Felagund could his thinking sway,  
convincing him to give away  
the Brethil woods to Haladin.  
Just one condition Thingol set:  
that if the Men would not protect  
this gifted land from Orcish troops,  
no kindness vain to Edain groups  
would Elves show nor let them win.

But Haleth merely laughing said:  
"With Haldar and my father dead,  
I cannot see why we would aid  
a putrid creature whose vile blade's  
the reason for their early graves.  
If Thingol thinks we'd Angband cheer,  
then Elven trails of thoughts are queer."  
These words she sent to Menegroth,  
– perhaps her wit made Thingol wroth,  
but no envoy came from his caves.

"'_If Thingol ever troubles me_'  
– what Caranthir meant I now can see,"  
thought Haleth to herself but smiled,  
for as she was the mortals' child,  
she saw how deep inside their soul,  
no matter how they peerage saw,  
each Elf-king had the exact same flaw  
that he in others found at fault,  
and though all lords themselves exalt,  
is each a stubborn greedy fool.

"A proud lord's vassal I've been turned,  
who only ever freedom yearned.  
Are mortal men to fiefdoms bound,  
to serve and die on battleground  
or princes' homes but sweep and preen?  
King Thingol's words were proud and terse,  
while Caranthir me offered furs  
– no wench am I nor mistress coy;  
I quote: '_through sorrow to find joy_';  
yea, I can crown myself a queen!"

Beloved she was by those who had  
since Athrad followed her, and glad  
they were to have a leader just  
who'd done her all to earn their trust  
and knew the wishes of her folk.  
A chieftain was her title new,  
around her stood her waiting crew:  
– the hand-picked guards of women bold –  
and in her father's custom old  
she wore a sword, no purple cloak.

An honoured lady, kind and wise,  
yet proud enough to before the eyes  
of high-ups stand her back unbowed  
until and after ageing's load  
that finally her hair made grey.  
The lady Haleth never wed  
– her nephew was her heir instead,  
so Hardan son of Haldar, who  
already had his grandsons two  
became the thane when she passed away.

The bells of Brethil dourly cling,  
the funeral trains its laments sing,  
and women place their white bouquets,  
and finally lord Hardan lays  
the gleaming sword to guard her rest.  
And for a while the woods were still  
as Haleth, just as was her will,  
was buried in the forest's calm,  
away from noises, war and qualm,  
away to woods she loved the best.

Tûr Haretha the tomb was named,  
the Ladybarrow that had claimed  
the bravest of the Haladin,  
the proudest that the Elves had seen,  
the woman who needed no king or lord.  
The passing Sindar called the place  
the Haudh-en-Arwen, and in their grace  
the thane's successors then condoled,  
and later other people told  
how eighty years was far too short.

Impermanent are mortal lives  
– in peace one lives and yet one dies.  
The Elves live on through dark and light,  
their eyes like stars light up the night,  
they glow like morning in the east.  
As mortals do did Haleth die,  
her eyes wont shine up in the sky  
nor body rise no more at morn,  
yet from her life one thing was born:  
her_ 'freedom at the very least_'.

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_The End_


End file.
